


Smooth Like Wine

by ABookAndACoffee



Series: Throne of Glass coffee shop AU [1]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, F/M, Fluff, idk where this story is going, will add tags as necessary - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-23 02:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20332495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABookAndACoffee/pseuds/ABookAndACoffee
Summary: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is going about her day in Orynth when someone takes her coffee by mistake.A prequel to Fragile Like Glass (elorcan).“You like your coffee sweet, then?”Aelin wanted to leave. She was late, she had work to do, and she needed to wash the bitterness of the Americano from her mouth. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, the cafe was loud and annoying, and the clouds outside threatened rain.Aelin should have left, but she wanted to look him in the eyes again.She turned around and tilted her head. “And you like yours boring, apparently. Rowan.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on the prompt "I think I picked up your coffee by mistake."

In the bustle of the downtown cafe, Aelin scrolled through her emails while she waited for her coffee. She was at a local place right next to the Starbucks that she avoided on principle, and she stopped there every morning before class. It was familiar enough that the staff knew her order, and would get it started as soon as she walked in the door - as long as they weren’t too busy, as they were that morning. 

Waiting for her coffee normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but Aelin was running late. Her alarm hadn’t gone off, she’d nearly forgotten to print out the paper she had to turn in, and her hair was still damp from the shower. The fact that she was in the cafe during a busier rush than she was used to didn’t help her mood.

Names were called out, and Aelin only looked up from her phone long enough to see whose was done. The woman who had been in line before her grabbed her cup, so Aelin moved closer to the pick-up counter.

Her fingers flew over the phone keyboard as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other, the books in her bag already making her uncomfortable.

so this guy just ordered a croissant but he pronounced it croy-sand, she typed.

Lysandra’s responding emoji had Aelin snorting at her phone.

Another cup was placed on the pick-up counter, a name called out. Aelin grabbed the cup without looking up from her phone, typing out expletive-laden texts about the homework to Lysandra with her thumb. She brought the cup to her mouth, took a sip, and nearly spit it out.

“What is this?” She set the cup back on the counter and frowned.

“Ummm…” The barista wiped his hands on his apron and spun the cup around, looking at the name. “It’s an Americano, for Rowan.”

“Where’s my coffee then?”

A deep, warm voice with a hint of an accent - perhaps Scottish? - came from over Aelin’s shoulder. “I think I picked up your coffee by mistake.”

She turned to look at the man who had taken her drink. Her eyes first took in his broad chest, and she had to arch her neck to look him in the eyes. They were green flecked with gold, and only his smirk of amusement reminded her that she was supposed to be annoyed.

Aelin picked up the cup she had drunk from and thrust it forward. “This is yours?”

He nodded and held up the cup he carried. “And you’re Aelin?”

“Yes.” She shoved her phone in her back pocket as they exchanged cups, and she turned to leave.

“You like your coffee sweet, then?”

Aelin wanted to leave. She was late, she had work to do, and she needed to wash the bitterness of the Americano from her mouth. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, the cafe was loud and annoying, and the clouds outside threatened rain.

Aelin should have left, but she wanted to look him in the eyes again.

She turned around and tilted her head. “And you like yours boring, apparently. Rowan.”

He grinned, took a sip of his drink - and she couldn’t help noticing the shape of his mouth as it met the place where hers had been - and leaned against the counter.

A customer came to pick up their drink, had to reach around them and glared, but neither Rowan nor Aelin moved.

“I just need the caffeine,” Rowan responded.

“And I say if I’m going to come here every day with these crowds,” Aelin looked around, a hint of fatigue in her eyes, “Then I’d better enjoy it.” She sipped her white mocha and the sweet warmth instantly improved her mood.

“What else do you enjoy, Aelin?”

“Why do you want to know, Rowan?”

“I just like being prepared when I ask a woman out.”

Aelin’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, and she was already planning out the text she would send Lysandra the second she got away.

“How do you know I’ll say yes?”

Rowan shrugged, took a sip of coffee and watched her as he did. “I can be persuasive.”

“You must ask out easy women if you think I’m just going to do the work for you.”

Rowan snorted and tried to contain his coughing as the coffee went down the wrong way. “Touché. I like a challenge.”

“I’m not a conquest,” Aelin shot back.

Rowan raised his hands in surrender.

“But I like fine wine, and even finer dining. And music.” Aelin’s eyes sparkled, triggered by some memory. “I come here every morning.”

“No phone number?”

“Like I said. You’ve gotta work for it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aelin decides to make the next move.

Aelin pushed open the door to the cafe, the bell above ringing with its familiar trill. As she made her way to the ordering line, she glanced down at her phone to check the time, looked up, and realized she had no idea what time it was.

Yes, she’d told Rowan that she went there every morning. Yes, perhaps she had decided to test him a bit and not show up for a week. But it had been a rough week, first trying to go without coffee, then caving and drinking the corporate swill across the street, and she just wanted to see the man with the green eyes.

So after a week, Aelin decided to break her resolve and go back to her usual coffee shop. She’d made Rowan wait long enough, and Lysandra was dying to have a follow-up of their previous conversation. Aelin figured she might as well indulge her single best friend’s requests for second-hand tittilation.

But as she had told Rowan, Aelin had no intention of being easily persuaded to spend her time with any guy she met. Even if his arms looked strong enough to pin her up against a wall.

As she sidled up to her place in line, Aelin did a quick scan of the tables. Rowan wasn’t seated at any of the tables she could see, but the place was just as crowded as usual, so he might still be there amongst the patrons.

There were two types of customers there, in the morning. The first type acted surprised to find a place so occupied in the middle of a city on a Monday morning. Aelin hated that type. The other type acted as if the world should part around them and their agenda, as if whatever meeting or conference call they had to rush to were going to solve climate change or end world hunger. She hated that type, too.

No matter how much Lysandra teased her that she belonged to the second camp, Aelin was sure that something held her apart from them.

Rowan hadn’t stuck around after they picked up their coffees, the morning that they met, so he probably had somewhere to be. She could appreciate that. She envied the people who could sit in the cafe and calmly sip their $5 drinks every morning without worrying about - well, not everyone had her problems. So perhaps Rowan fit in more with the workaholic milieu, which she supposed she could respect, in its own way.

Then again, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t show up again.

Aelin continued looking down at her phone in an effort to scan the crowd without being so obvious that she was looking for someone. As she approached the counter she set her purse down and snapped out her order without lifting her eyes from the screen.

“How have you gone all week without one?” The deep voice coming from behind the counter was too familiar with her to be one of the normal employees. They knew better.

Frowning, Aelin set her phone on the counter and looked up.

Rowan stood behind the register, grinning, a white apron tied around his hips.

Aelin glanced around. “What are you doing? Are you allowed to be back there?” She felt like she had run into a professor at the grocery store, or her parents at a club. Something grated where it didn’t fit, namely this man she couldn’t stop thinking about, to the detriment of her homework ethic.

He gestured towards his name tag. “I work here.”

“When I said you have to work for it…” Aelin let her sentence trail away into silence, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

“I needed a job.”

She crossed her arms.

“And my friend already worked here,” Rowan continued, tilting his head at a similarly tall blond whose name tag read Fenrys. “But don’t worry, Aelin. I still plan on working for it.”

Aelin leaned forward, resting her palms on the edge of the tiled counter. “This isn’t what I meant by working. But as long as you’re serving me, this will do. For now.” She held her phone to the register and watched Rowan’s eyebrow twitch, his tongue flick over his lower lip for a split second.

A masculine grunt came from behind Aelin. They’d probably been talking too long already, but Aelin swatted his annoyance away with her hand without looking back at him.

“There are a lot of coffee shops in town. What are you? Out of work actor?”

Rowan let out something that could have been a snort. “Not quite. Just a student, at OU.” He glanced at her bag. “And you?”

“Student. OU.” Aelin shifted her bag on her shoulder. “English.”

“So will I find you working here after graduation?”

Aelin frowned, and nearly reached across the counter to punch him in the shoulder. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of non service-related jobs for English majors.”

“Flirt somewhere else,” the man behind Aelin said. Well, he didn’t so much say it as he whispered it under his breath.

Aelin turned, slowly. “Excuse me?” She stood a solid foot shorter than the business suit-clad coffee drinker, but he took a step back.

The man grumbled, then looked down at his phone to feign innocence.

Convenient technology, cellphones.

Turning, Aelin caught a surprised look on Rowan’s face before he wiped his expression clean. “So. Don’t you have something to ask me,” she asked.

“You’re right.” He wiped his hands on his apron. “Would you like your receipt?”

Aelin’s face fell flat and she held her hand out. She would never tell Lysandra about this, she would pretend she had never run into Rowan, she would find another coffee shop, she would stop letting herself think for even a second that men could be trusted or that there were any good ones left, and she would live her life in peace, alone.

Rowan grabbed the paper from the register and then pulled a pen from a nearby cup. He held them both out to her. “Can I have your number yet?”


End file.
